


Promise, Dean

by allthe_subtext



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angel Sam Winchester, Angst, Angst and Feels, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Archangel Sam Winchester, Bittersweet Ending, Curtain Fic, Dean as the Micheal Sword, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotionally Hurt Dean Winchester, Emotionally Hurt Sam Winchester, Episode AU: s05e22 Swan Song, Episode: s05e22 Swan Song, Flashbacks, Gen, Heavy Angst, Hurt Dean Winchester, Hurt Sam Winchester, Hurt/Comfort, Lucifer Possessing Sam Winchester, Lucifer's Cage (Supernatural), Micheal Sword, Post-Episode: s05e22 Swan Song, Pre-Series Dean Winchester, Pre-Series Sam Winchester, Sad and Happy, Sam Winchester Has Powers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-10
Updated: 2021-03-10
Packaged: 2021-03-16 23:35:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 965
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29957604
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allthe_subtext/pseuds/allthe_subtext
Summary: No one outruns fate.“The Micheal sword shall slay his younger brother and rid the world of evil. And Heaven on Earth shall prevail.”Centuries of prophecy have foretold the end, crowing over the triumph of the light.The Micheal sword shall slay his younger brother-The Micheal sword-Keep your promise, Dean.
Relationships: Dean Winchester & Sam Winchester, Lucifer & Dean Winchester, Lucifer & Sam Winchester
Comments: 6
Kudos: 8





	Promise, Dean

No one outruns fate.

“The Micheal sword shall slay his younger brother and rid the world of evil. And Heaven on Earth shall prevail.”

Centuries of prophecy have foretold the end, crowing over the triumph of the light.

Heaven on Earth. The crowd weeps with joy. Heaven on Earth.

Sam and Dean know better. Heaven constitutes holy fire, and the angels will let the world burn just to rule over the ashes. The Winchesters will do anything to prevent that future. 

But the yes has barely soured Sam’s tongue before his voice dies. The Morningstar’s grace suffocates his soul, the snake in the Garden of Eden that winds tighter and tighter around its prey. Its venom paralyzes him; Sam can only spectate as his hands seek the keys to Lucifer’s Cage, four rings forged of death and chaos. Lucifer smirks with Sam’s mouth.

“You really thought that two humans could wield the rings of Horsemen? Even after all this time, humanity’s arrogance astounds me.”

Dean can’t breathe. “Sammy?”

“He’s long gone,” the Devil whispers, stepping closer. “But the real kicker is that these aren’t even the real keys to my cage. I destroyed the rings the moment I was freed.”

No. No no no no no. Dean shakes his head in silent denial, and Lucifer laughs. “I have played this game longer than you can dream of, kiddo. No one will ever shove me back into that cage.”

In his hands, the rings crumple like cheap metal. 

Grief boils to rage in the ruts of the well-worn road. “I’m going to kill you,” Dean enunciates. Hope turns bitter so easily. And they had indulged in so much hope. They knew better.

Pity shines in Lucifer’s eyes. “No, you won’t. You would never kill sweet, little Sammy, not even when he begged you. Isn’t that right?”

The past echoes in the roaring of Dean’s ears. _If I ever become something I’m not, you have to kill me. Promise me!_

_… I would rather die._

An almost regretful smile plays on Lucifer’s mouth. “You should’ve kept your promise, Dean.”

* * *

Stull Cemetery marks the prophecy’s fulfillment. Lucifer murders Bobby and Cas with Sam’s hands, then beats Dean broken and bloody on the metal of their home. “I’m not gonna leave you,” his brother whispers. “I’m not gonna leave you.” And Sam wants to cry, wants to soothe, _I know, I know, I know._

His stained fist raises for the killing blow. But through the glass, the army man catches Sam’s eye. 

_As long as I’m around, nothing bad’s gonna happen to you._

_I had to protect you, that’s my job._

_I’m not gonna leave you._

_I’m not gonna leave you._

And Sam thinks, _no._

* * *

Dean braces for the end. His entire body throbs in time with his heart. Sam’s flat eyes flay him alive with their coldness. They shift to the side, then widen. 

“...Sam?” When Sam meets his eyes, his younger brother looks scared. “Sam!” The earth buckles beneath them.

Grace pools into green irises like liquid metal pouring into a cast. White swathes Sam as he stumbles back, and Dean reaches out instinctively. He recoils when Sam looks up, eyes gaping crevasses of light. Sam’s mouth opens in a silent scream as he shakes, flesh cracking and breaking, a chrysalis making way for terrible greatness. Blinding blue grace bubbles where skin splits. Energy cleaves the sky like lighting, crackling wings charring Sam’s back as they sprout. 

Ozone burns Dean’s nostrils as his skin blisters from the boiling metal at his back. “Sam!” he cries, desperation whipped away in the chaos. 

The world is falling apart. His world is shaking to pieces. Dean clenches his eyes shut and waits for the end. 

His eyelids sear white.

* * *

Dean wakes to a soft touch on his cheek and no pain. He flinches back, pressing against the cool dirt. Sunlight pierces his eyes when he squints them open. 

“Sam?” His brother holds vigil beside him, iridescent wings catching and refracting the light. Sam withdraws his fingers.

“You healed me.”

“It’s going to be ok, Dean.” 

Sam meets his eyes, and his little brother’s eyes are bright blue, almost white, crackling with power and “ _Sam-_ ”

“I’ve got him.”

Dean’s throat and soul are scraped raw. “What?” he croaks. 

“I’ve got Lucifer, Dean. His grace too. He’s possessing my body, but I have control.” Sam sits forward. “I’ve got him,” he repeats, almost like he can’t believe it. Almost like he’s mourning. 

There are a million words for this moment, but Dean can only grin, a smile splitting his face. “That’s my boy.” Only Sam. Only Sam could defy an archangel and win; only Sam would dare. 

But Sam doesn’t smile back. “Do you remember the prophecy?” he asks, tone… off. And what a stupid question; it’s branded into both their brains, those ominous words that read like a death sentence, a noose shrinking with every decision, every act of “free will.”

“You can’t outrun fate.” A mournful lament.

“Sam, what-”

Sam fits the puzzle pieces together neatly with his words, and all too suddenly Dean can feel coarse rope around his neck, choking and pulling tighter, and he can’t breathe can’t breathe can’t breathe-

His little brother (precocious, genius, bright future that one) was always so good at piecing things together. The only way to kill Lucifer is through the Micheal sword. Poets and seers have sung about Micheal’s triumph for eons now, his victory as he wielded the Micheal sword. Wielded Dean. But that is not their fate.

Dean never said yes to Micheal, but that is not their destiny.

This is their destiny.

The Micheal sword shall slay his younger brother and rid the world of evil. And Heaven on Earth shall prevail.

Heaven on Earth.

Sammy, _no._

_Please, Dean._

**Author's Note:**

> Subscribe for more! The rest of this story is already planned/outlined. Kudos and comments are appreciated :)


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